Apocalyptic
by Kittezu
Summary: War had hit the entire world. Everybody was to blame, and there was no clear goal. Lies were told, tears were spilled, certainly there'd be a way out of this?
1. Chapter 1

You could say it was the apocalypse.

War had broken out across the entire world thanks to petty arguments over practically nothing among the countries. Threats were made, and carried out over time as things grew worse.

There was no clear starting point, everyone was angered over small things, which led to disagreements and altercations. Countries that had been friends for centuries grew apart and fought more often. Countries that were already infuriated with each other began to admonish war. Secret alliances were made and deceitful rumours were spread. Some countries had even turned on the ones who created them, raised them. Either way, nobody was to trust with war and violence spreading like wildfire.

So yeah, peaceful times were coming to an end.

And only the ones willing to do anything to get to the top would survive.


	2. Chapter 2

"So what do you plan on doing, then?".

Sitting at the table was England, nonchalantly staring at nothing as he thought over the question. He was _tired_. Tired of arguments. Battles. Civil problems. Threats. Attacks. But most of all, he was tired of being tired. So much had happened, sure he'd boasted about how prepared he was for such things, but he was really clueless. There was a slim chance the nation would make any sudden moves. It was all too brash.

"Well?".

He sighed. "There isn't anything I can do now that wouldn't make it worse. I'll sit this one out."

Sitting across the table was Spain, a conceited expression written across his face. He'd figured everything the Brit had threatened to do to his enemies was all a bluff, and he was right. He was always right, wasn't he?

"So you just plan on watching this attack go down?", he asked, contemptuously smiling.

"I have bigger problems to worry about," England responded, narrowing his eyes at the other. "It's a small town, doesn't really matter to me if it gets destroyed. I'll be fine without it."

"Prussia said the same thing more than enough times. Look where it's gotten him."

He shot a choleric glare at the Spaniard. He certainly knew what he was doing, that obstreperous fool wasn't a proper comparison.

There were so many things to deal with now. Nearly everyone was bent on attacking England because America had given false information, saying he had bombs set to go off in all of the other major countries. Automatically, the countries not only began to check every corner of their land but threatened to wipe him clean off the map. The idiot had done it to take the focus away from himself, and he was going to pay.

"I have my plans, you have yours. Worry about yourself before someone takes advantage of your _ignorance_," he snapped.

Spain's smile faded. "Why are you so touchy? Afraid you'll be destroyed by the nation you brought up?".

England grit his teeth, mentally questioning why he'd even thought it was a good idea to talk to him. But it was true, America was just as bent on dismantling him like all the others. Then again, they'd grown extremely separated over time so it really shouldn't have been a surprise, and yet, it still was. He had to do something to end it.

"Well, I have things to attend to. Be grateful I didn't come after you as everyone else has," the Spaniard said, standing and showing himself out, flashing a bitter smile.

Once he was gone, England slammed his head against the table, fists clenched. He was losing it, there was nowhere to go, nobody to ally with. He was near breaking point. He was stressed, but he'd never admit it. It wouldn't be long before attacks started coming at the same time and he wouldn't be able to handle the amount of pressure. It was hopeless, he was cornered.

* * *

Everything was going perfect. Barely anyone was trying to attack him anymore, and the few that were couldn't manage much. America really didn't think any of this would work at all, but even his major enemies were no longer focused on him, even Russia.

He'd been surprised things were going so well, hell he'd expected nobody would believe him. But they all fell for it and now England was taking the hits instead of him. America laughed to himself. It was all so surreal.

Sure, he felt a tinge of guilt for laying so much blame on the nation that was there for him so often, but it didn't matter. War wasn't a time for feeling bad for others, pity would drag you down more than anything. If there was going to be anyone to survive through this, it was him.

He thought about who there was to go after next. Russia was an option, but he'd have to be beyond cautious. No, he needed someone small, but someone who would still fight back.

Japan? Possibly. Japan wasn't small, but he'd certainly put up a good fight. He wouldn't be able to take him out in one sweep though, it would have to be a slow advance. America smiled to himself.

He could manage something like that.

* * *

Canada stood at a command center, breath coming and going shakily.

He'd watched this war begin, tried to prevent it and yet, nobody acknowledged that he had done anything. So here he was, at his last resort.

Nausea was spreading through his stomach. This was a horrible idea and it would only make things worse. But he had to be noticed. He'd figured out that America was lying about England, and irrespective of closeness he wasn't going to let that go. So when the man asked him if he really planned on doing this, he slowly nodded, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

He never wanted to do this, but he was tired of everyone thinking either he wasn't noticeable enough for a fight or was too weak to hold his own. The one that antagonized him the most was going to be the one who'd take a tremendous blow.

Of course, he was just asking for an attack to be thrown right back at him. But he wanted that, he wanted to be able to fight back like everyone else and to have something to be proud of.

The nation had just sent out a missile heading towards Washington, one capacious enough to wipe out nearly half of the state. America was going to see it and try to stop it before it did its job, he knew that. But even if he succeeded, he'd still know where it came from, which meant he would try to do the same thing, possibly something even worse.

He didn't plan on backing down or destroying it in mid-flight. He was going to let it hit and watch the state _burn_.

* * *

**A/N: Gah, I've had this idea flying around in my head for a while. But I'm really lazy so I had to convince myself to make it into a story. Things are always easier inside the mind.**

**There'll be violence later on.**

**As always, reviews and such are nice. **


	3. Chapter 3

"A _missile_?!", America practically screamed, scrambling over to the computer screen after hearing what had happened. He'd gotten a call that there was a massive bomb speeding towards one of his states. Everything had been going perfect, and now this?! He didn't want to deal with it, but he had no choice. It was ridiculous, everyone's attention was supposed to be on England. His stomach dropped when he wondered if someone had seen through his lies. That wouldn't end good for him, not with all the power-crazy ones he'd given the information to.

He gripped the desk the computer sat on, staring with a horrified expression. There was a missile blinking across the satellite's view, ostensibly heading for Washington. Information came up on the side of the screen, giving a death count prediction and a damage radius. The nation went pale when he saw the prognosis of what would happen.

Over three million citizens were going to die if he didn't find a way to stop this thing.

_His _citizens.

That meant other people would panic and try to leave the country. He needed the people to stay, without them, he was nothing. People made up a nation. Bombs and death terrified people. People who were terrified would try to get away. It was a simple cause and effect.

_Shit._

His breath quickened as enmity filled his mind. Oh, whoever sent this was going to pay like hell.

America began to think of how he could get it to turn away or detonate in mid-air. He would need the codes to make it explode without hitting his land. Some debris would probably land, but it was better than having half of a state wiped out. This couldn't be happening. Who was attacking him? He'd made sure to spread the accusation to every large country, and there was no way a small country could have this kind of firepower. He grit his teeth.

"How long do we have?", he asked, tightening his grip on the table he had in front of him.

"A little over an hour, sir."

He sighed sharply. An hour. One hour to figure this out.

"Do we know who sent it?"

He was going to put the nation that sent this towards him through hell.

"Yes, sir. Canada shot this one off."

America's train of thought came to a screeching halt. _Canada?_ No, that couldn't have been right. He'd chosen to not have any weapons like that in his nation a long time ago. Where could something like this have come from? Illegally bought? That didn't seem like something he would do. What changed?

He turned his attention back towards the screen. It showed a repeating pattern of the trail the missile had taken, followed up by the system's guess of what the missile making contact with his land would look like. He watched the small flash of red go by. The American's eyes dilated. He was right.

This was impossible. This wasn't the same nation he knew, no he always avoided conflict and never wanted to get involved in wars. He tried his best to be a peacemaker. More importantly, why was Canada picking a fight with him of all people? He wouldn't do it for no reason, no, he had a drive. What was it, then?

But if he wanted a fight, so be it.

"I don't care how you do it, but get the launch codes and stop that missile. I'm not going to have it written in history that he nearly managed to take out one of my states," America vociferated.

"But sir, with the amount of time, we-".

"Get it _done!_".

The man frantically darted off. America sighed, rubbing at his temples, trying to calm down. This was bad. Really bad. How was this supposed to go away in less than an hour?

* * *

"This is quite unexpected."

"I figured it would happen eventually. You can't escape the inevitable."

Russia smiled at the report he had just received. America had barely any time left to stop a missile that was speeding towards an important state of his. How marvelous. He was going to force his own attack onto the nation, but with this Canada making such a move, he didn't have to. He would wait until America was at his weakest, just so he could deliver the last blow. At least he could focus on other countries for now.

Next to him was Germany, who was beyond frustrated. Everyone who had been friends with him was getting torn apart, piece by piece. It was only a matter of time before he was all alone. Germany planned to ally with one of the strongest nations he knew in order to help himself. When he was more powerful, he'd crush Russia like a bug and rise to the top.

"I have a proposition for you," he began. Russia's icy eyes met his.

"What would that be?".

"If we form an alliance between our nations, we have a considerable chance of getting more out of this war than anyone else."

"It sounds like a nice offer, but I am not interested," the Russian responded, waving him off.

Germany thought. He needed this, it'd help him gain power. There were nations he was still close to, but he didn't need them. Maybe he could offer help in attacking one of them. He remembered Russia mentioning that he wanted new land to control, so he could make a suggestion, right? But it needed to be impressive. Someone he'd known for a while, so he could show how merciless he really was. The nation mentally skimmed over his options, pausing when he thought of Japan.

"If you agree, I'll help you to reduce Japan to nothing. Then the land will be yours for the taking." Sure, he'd spent some time with him, but it didn't account for anything in the end.

Russia appeared surprised at the remark. "Didn't you two have an alliance at some point?".

"Yes, but if anything it was only for technological advantages. I don't waste my time keeping around what's already been used enough," he responded.

The other smiled, amused. "The way you think is perfect. I suppose an agreement could be made."

He stuck out his hand, offering a handshake. Germany obliged, ideas of how to get rid of him already forming in his head. On a side note, who was this _Canada?_ They were certainly brave. Nobody would make such a big move on America out of nowhere. They were either really brave, or really foolish. Either way, they wouldn't be alive for long, and he'd make sure of that.

* * *

**A/N: Okaaay. I've got a bunch of ideas in my head, and I'm slowly finding ways to push them together. This beginning is going to be a bit confusing, but I'll make things manage.**

**Reviews are fun.**


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